


Whisper On The Wind

by NeverlandHunter



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Background Relationships, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Drabble Collection, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Multi, Relationship(s), Romance, Slow Burn, Storytelling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-23 15:15:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 2,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4881670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverlandHunter/pseuds/NeverlandHunter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I am a whisper on the wind. An unspoken suggestion. A thoughtful nudge.</p>
<p>A spirit seeks out the Anchor and watches as Lavellan leads the Inquisition, and her companions, in saving Thedas. The spirit observes her from the beginning and watches her interactions with those around her, including her falling in love with Solas.</p>
<p>Inspired by Solas's tale of the Matchmaker</p>
<p>Here lie Trespasser spoilers </p>
<p>and short chapters</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I am a whisper on the wind. An unspoken suggestion. A thoughtful nudge.

There were stirrings on the Other Side. A tear appeared and I went to see, but I did not stray to near. Others had been swept in and did not return. 

Smaller tears were made and others went to inspect them, but I was drawn to something else. A beacon in the chaos, sharp and pulsing, and soft and still. 

I looked beyond to the Other Side and saw her. Weak and mortal with shallow breaths, I wondered idly if she would die. The Beacon was consuming her. It marked her, but was not meant for her. 

Voices nearby attracted my attention, but the Marked One remained unaware. I watched as three walked in. The female was the center, she led and commanded the room, yet it was Faith that had embraced her. One male trailed after her, reluctant and fearful, but it was the other male that warranted my attention. Elvhen, mournful and lost, he had walked when both places were one, before a thought had created me. 

He moved to the Marked One’s side as the female who led looked at him skeptically. He picked up the hand that bore the Mark and inspected it. The female addressed him, 

“Can you wake her up, _apostate_?”

“I do not even know if she will live Seeker, but I will do what I can for her.”

Seeker, what does she seek? Anger reflects off of her, but also sorrow and fear. 

They spoke more until she left and another male and female took her place, watching the Elvhen as he worked.

I would stay too and watch.


	2. Chapter 2

She mumbled out incoherent words from a language she had little understanding of. The Elvhen had stopped the Mark from taking her life, but she had yet to awaken. He had come in once to check on her, eyeing the marks on her face with curiosity. A rite of passage and a sign of belonging to her. Something else entirely for him. 

I would wait for her to awaken on the Other Side. Too many of the others pursue her in her dreams. Here I am left to observe, uncontested.


	3. Chapter 3

The Seeker and the ones that follow her were angry at the Marked One. The Elvhen was angry at himself.


	4. Chapter 4

When the Marked One woke there was shouting from the Seeker. Now there is shouting everywhere. A battle, others had come to watch it, but I continued to follow the Mark. 

I followed until she approached a tear. There I would keep my distance, but still I continued to observe. The Mark and the person that bore it could heal the tear. The Elvhen showed her how. There was a bitterness behind his smile that they did not see.

She was curious about the Elvhen. He is called Pride, he is called Solas. She was told he had kept her alive by the Child of the Stone. He was not curious about her. He thought he knew her without knowing her. After the Elvhen called Solas spoke of her people she watched him more closely, with wary eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

She was asleep again, she slept a lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, hardly a chapter!


	6. Chapter 6

She spoke to Solas again, curiosity giving way to questions. He gave her answers because he enjoyed questions, but when she asked of the elves, he answered harshly. Her people made him angry, and guilty for his own mistakes. His answer hurt her pride, but she replied with anger and then appeasement.

“What course would you set for them that is better than what they know now?”

Regret. It had stung him, but she did not know. He offered her his knowledge if she sought answers. She did. He wondered if he judged her too quickly.

She looked at him differently after he gave her the answers she sought. She took in his appearance. She asked more questions, but there was something more in her eyes. Something hesitant and wondering.

She asked him of himself and his journeys into the Fade. He spoke to her earnestly, inwardly pleased to have someone that would listen. He gave her a compliment while explaining himself. It was a casual praise, but her cheeks colored slightly after hearing it. 

I wandered closer, interested in these developments. 

She questioned his comment and he answered with a different kind of interest. 

A look and a feeling passed between to people. Tentative and new. Shy and pleased.

She asked more questions about his travels and then about his friends.

A friend to spirits. He has known many of the others. Sought companionship and knowledge. 

She was hesitant about his ideas, but she did not want to offend him. She deflected his question with a compliment, but he caught her attempt.

“I try… and that isn’t quite an answer.”

She avoided the question again. This time with a smile on her face and in her eyes, and a trace of a suggestion in her tone.

“I look forward to helping you make new friends.”

It caught him off guard, that smile. He noticed her then, in a new way, and it made him stumble on his words.

“That should be… well.”

Laughter on the inside. She had a power over him now and she knew it.

“That isn’t quite an answer, either.”

She left before he could collect himself.


	7. Chapter 7

They continued to call her The Herald of Andraste. It made her nervous. 

They should not expect so much. 

She was not sent by some god figure to help them in their time of need. 

She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

It was a mistake. 

She is just herself.

What if she fails? They will blame her and her people. Just another reason to hate them.

She must not fail.


	8. Chapter 8

She led them, hesitantly. She knew little of their religion, less of their politics. She regretted it, her lack of understanding, but how was she to have known she would ever be in a situation where those things would be important? She cursed, silently, and promised herself that she would read up on all of it later.

She would not be ignorant.


	9. Chapter 9

The Ambassador, Josephine, Lady Montilyet, Josie. She had many names. 

Her hand would scribble out line upon line of black ink with little pause in between. Only a quiet moment to think, and then quill went back to paper.

The Marked One liked her right away. Diplomatic and kind, understanding and thoughtful. They were alike in those ways.

Mistress Lavellan is what The Ambassador called her. It amused her, she never would have imagined being addressed like that before, especially by a human.

The Ambassador was upset that rumors of Dalish barbarism were being spread. Lavellan said it did not bother her. She was used to it.

What she said was not what she felt.

The Dalish were not barbarians, or murderers, or monsters. 

Her family were good people. They kept traditions alive and legends being told.

She could ignore what people said about her, but not what they said about her family.

She would not take her frustration out on The Ambassador though. She smiled and told The Ambassador pleasant stories about her people.


	10. Chapter 10

She had told them her name, but almost all of them forgot. She was the Herald of Andraste. She was hope. She did not have a name like they did. She had a purpose.


	11. Chapter 11

Everyone was worried. Some showed it in every fearful look behind their shoulder. Some in their feverish, whispered prayers. Some in their loud boasting, as if they hoped the noise would drive out the silence. Some hid it well.

The Child of Stone hid it behind an easy smile and a dramatic gesture. 

The Marked One went to him, drawn to his confidence as I was to her Mark.

He was called Varric, but he was a Storyteller.

She was comforted by his lightheartedness. It calmed her.

He saw that she was a person first. Behind her determination was doubt. Behind her strength there was fear.

He spoke to her like a person. Spun stories to make her smile.

The little things make the biggest difference.


	12. Chapter 12

A dagger in the darkness waiting to strike. A weapon and tool for others to use, but weapons do not weep tears for the ones they had lost. 

She dressed in black and walked without the sound of footsteps, as if she was a living shadow. But she was alive and she mourned and she prayed a bitter prayer.

Lavellan wished to speak with her, but she was hesitant. The grief and the dark, hidden rage behind her eyes made the Nightingale unapproachable. 

Their first true conversation was unintentional. 

“Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just. Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow.”

Lavellan had grown accustomed to the Chant. It was spoken through their Haven constantly and it followed her from building to building. A reminder of who she was to them and how the Inquisition was formed. 

It was the Nightingale's words that caught her attention though. The Nightingale’s voice was soft, but it carried through the wind. Fear and doubt. Guilt and anger. They were woven into a song that came out as a prayer. 

Lavellan stopped to listen and was noticed by the Nightingale. 

“You speak for Andraste, no? What does the Maker’s Prophet have to say about all of this? What’s His game?"

The question held anger, but neither the anger nor the question were meant for Lavellan. Resentment and grief loosened the Nightingale’s tongue and the Nightingale sought answers she knew she would not find. Lavellan was caught off guard, but she spoke gently to the Nightingale. She saw the wound that the Nightingale tried to hide. Lavellan offered to help, but the Nightingale shut herself away again.

Now is not the time to show weakness. The Nightingale will stay sharp. 

But if you do not try to heal the wound it will cripple you.

Lavellan walked away with her own doubts stirring in her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took awhile to update! I kind of lost my little spark of motivation to write this, but then I found him again. He was hiding in some Solas romance scenes! Now that I have him again I shall keep him alight! My goal is to post a chapter or two everyday, and since these chapters are so small I suspect I have quite a few to go. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you everyone who has been reading this, leaving kudos, commenting, and bookmarking!


	13. Chapter 13

They traveled through a place called the Hinterlands; Lavellan, the Seeker, Varric, and Solas. 

The people there cried out and Lavellan listened. She dulled the pain and helped the hurt, but there was always more. Others watched this land too, many moved too close to the tears and were forced through to the Other Side and perverted against themselves. 

I was a careful watcher. I stayed back when Lavellan moved to heal the tears. 

She was efficient on her mission to help, but she liked to explore. Solas would smile on the inside when she stopped to investigate the local flora or to rummage through half-forgotten crates. The Seeker would sigh as she grew restless for battle, but never complain. Varric would play stories in his head, and remember the days he followed another woman with a penchant for looting.

At least the Herald needs the resources, Hawke was just a hoarder. 

Lavellan debated between taking one last thing before she set it down and stood up.

“I think I’ve grabbed everything we could use here. We can travel to that artifact you spoke of now Solas.”

Solas was glad she listened. She was glad to help.

He studied her as they approached the ruins that contained the artifact, as she fought the Others that were there, and as she spoke to the Dalish elf named Mihris. Her interaction with the Dalish interested him. It interested me too.

Lavellan held a little knot of suspicion for Mihris, but she was grateful to meet another Dalish after so much time had been spent away from them.

Being among the humans for so long has made her paranoid. Mihris lost her clan, she lost her family. She should offer to help her.

“You, flat-ear, can you manage it?”

An insult at Solas, but it stung Lavellan more than it did him. 

She should say something to Mihris. Solas was her companion.

She stayed silent instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was anyone else upset you couldn't call Mihris out on insulting Solas? I worked headcanon around it, but it bugged me when I first played.
> 
> As always thanks for reading! Feel free to comment on your thoughts :)


	14. Chapter 14

He wanted to be Blackwall. 

Cast aside the other man’s sins and take up the mantle of a just hero. 

The other name was tainted. Stained with blood and greed. Blackwall was a new name, finer and nobler than the old one, but the stain spread beyond the name. It soaked into the deepest parts of him.

He could never escape it, but he would try.

Lavellan was taken in by his honesty, but she did not know of the other name.

Masks worn and faces hidden. Walking among them unnoticed.

They would notice if they took a moment to observe. But the hidden things frighten them, so their eyes never see.

There were so many names, with so many different meanings.


End file.
